Looking at Hwijun, who whispered his explanation, Hayoon asked, “So, to settle the past, he dragged you off and beat you up?”
“Yeah, that’s how it went. Hence this,” Hwijun said, pointing to his jaw, still bruised purple.
Seeing Hayoon and Hwijun whispering, Sihoo grabbed a frying pan and banged it. Clang, clang.
“Hey, you two! Hands idle?” Sihoo called.
Hayoon and Hwijun quickly finished cleaning the dining area. By 8 a.m., in just 90 minutes, the three had completed all preparations. A simple breakfast lay before them on the table.
Hwijun’s eyes widened at the spread. “What’s this?”
“Staff meal. Gotta eat to work,” Sihoo said.
On the table were eggplant stir-fry, cabbage kimchi, egg rolls, rice, and steaming soup. Hwijun’s mouth watered at the sight. “Let’s eat quick.”
“But…” Hwijun trailed off, glancing at the kitchen and then Sihoo’s face. “You prepped all ingredients and food in 90 minutes and made staff breakfast?”
Shaking his head, Sihoo said, “Dude, other chefs do that. You just haven’t seen it. I’m not even fast.”
Hayoon, waving a chopstick, laughed. “Kid, you’re insanely fast. Even Kanghoon couldn’t keep up.”
Sihoo thought of Kanghoon. “Hyung was fast. He flew around the kitchen.”
Hayoon nodded vaguely. “Let’s eat. That YouTuber’s almost due.”
Hwijun paused, then asked, “Hyung, what if he doesn’t show on time?”
“What can we do? He’ll have to wait in line,” Hayoon said.
Hwijun recalled a viewer’s negative comment about Ddakddaguri during his own stream after Sihoo’s beating. Looking at Sihoo, who was eating side dishes, he asked, “If that YouTuber eats and leaves without paying, what’ll you do?”
Sihoo set down his chopsticks, meeting Hwijun’s eyes. “Look at the ceiling.”
Hwijun spotted a CCTV camera in the corner. “CCTV? What’s that for?”
“Kanghoon hyung installed it. Crystal-clear audio and video. Wanna run?” Sihoo said, taking a bite of soup. “I’ll give you the footage, and you can stream it.”
Hayoon and Hwijun choked on their food, coughing. Cough, cough.
“So, if Ddakddaguri pulls something, you’ll make him pay?” Hayoon asked.
Sihoo nodded firmly. “Obviously. Kanghoon quit his job, and I took over. No one’s messing with this place.”
Hayoon’s lips curved slightly at Sihoo’s resolute tone and gaze.
56804 opened at 10 a.m. Hayoon had told Ddakddaguri to arrive around 9:30 a.m. Checking the clock, Sihoo saw the YouTuber still hadn’t shown as the time approached. He prepared ingredients, pre-cooking what he could for the morning rush.
“The shrimp were great. Should I make shrimp stew?” Sihoo mused, planning a clear, spicy shrimp jjigae. Shrimp, warm in nature and sweet-salty in taste, were known in herbal texts to protect kidneys and boost vitality. “It’s good for stress, too. Perfect for a YouTuber,” Sihoo thought, considering Ddakddaguri’s high-pressure job.
While prepping shrimp, removing their innards, Sihoo saw Hayoon and Hwijun chatting in the dining area. Once we open, it’s chaos. Resting’s part of the job.
Suddenly, shouting came from outside. “Line up properly!”
“What, being a YouTuber makes you special?”
“Don’t cut! YouTuber or not, don’t you know basic manners?”
Sihoo checked the clock—one minute to opening. Hwijun smirked, as if expecting the tardiness, and Sihoo shrugged, calling to Hayoon, “Hyung! Serve customers in order of arrival.”
“Got it,” Hayoon replied.
Sihoo thought, Should’ve been on time.
Ding-a-ling. The door opened, and two female students, regulars Juha and Saessuk, entered, grumbling about the YouTuber outside. “Thinks he’s all that just ‘cause he’s a YouTuber?”
“Those types always act entitled,” Saessuk said.
Hwijun handed them menus. Juha, taking one, brightened. “Oh? New oppa?”
“Started today. Call me when you’re ready,” Hwijun said.
Juha stared. “Wait… you’re that streamer Pukkumi, right?”
Hwijun flinched. She recognizes me? He played it off. “Pukkumi’s a sea creature. Do I look like one?”
Juha waved her hands, flustered. “No, not that Pukkumi!”
Hwijun laughed, calming himself. “Haha, call me when you’ve chosen.”
Juha kept staring as he served other customers. Saessuk nudged her. “Not picking a menu?”
“Huh? Oh!” Juha snapped out of it.
The girls browsed, curious about today’s specials but leaning toward spicy shrimp pasta, level 4 heat. “I’m craving spicy today,” Juha said.
“Same,” Saessuk agreed, raising a hand. “Excuse me!”
Outside, Hayoon struggled with Ddakddaguri, Kim Cheolsu. The line grew longer, and the YouTuber, streaming live, vented. “They won’t let me in just ‘cause I’m a bit late. Is this fair?”
Hayoon, checking his watch, said calmly, “We waited since dawn. You’re late, and now you’re upset? What about the customers in line?”
Cheolsu glared at the queue. “I’m a YouTuber with a reservation!”
“Then you should’ve been on time,” Hayoon said.
The customers’ glares were icy. Cheolsu, frustrated, felt wronged. Everywhere else, restaurants welcomed him, even offering extra seats. But here? Nothing.
He glanced at his chat, filled with mockery and criticism:
- Guri, you messed up.
- They said one minute late, and you’re out. Didn’t listen, huh?
- Guri’s screwed lol.
- Wait like the rest. Don’t mess with the place.
- A bit late, and they block you? Harsh. Poor Guri.
- Late and whining? Typical.
Cheolsu tried to calm his viewers. “Guys, don’t fight.”
Feeling slight relief, he said to Hayoon, “I was a bit late, but other places give me leeway…”
Customers interrupted. “Get in line! So much talk for being late.”
“Young people these days, no manners. Time’s precious for everyone.”
“Staff, put him at the back!”
Cheolsu’s eyes darted to Hayoon. “You’re serious?”
Hayoon pointed to the line’s end, smirking.
“I’m the ‘Fact Check’ YouTuber! I reserved!” Cheolsu protested.
“We gave you leeway,” Hayoon said loudly. “Come early, and we prioritize you. You didn’t. Your fault.”
Cheolsu, fuming, apologized to the line and shuffled to the back, muttering, They’ll regret this. I’ll say it’s overhyped, bad food, with my million subscribers.
Hayoon warned, “About an hour’s wait. Don’t leave the line, or you’re back to the end.”
Cheolsu was stunned. Customers defending a restaurant? Unheard of.
Finally inside, Cheolsu filmed the interior. A customer, sensitive to privacy, complained to Hayoon, who apologized profusely and brought a dessert tray from Sihoo to appease them.
Hayoon confronted Cheolsu sharply. “We said no filming inside. You promised to eat quietly.”
Cheolsu, flustered, muted his stream. His chat exploded:
- Guri, is this a broadcast fail?
- Why mute? What’s up?
Frustrated, Cheolsu whispered, “I said I’d avoid faces, but they’re so picky. I’m a customer too.”
He added, “If I subtitle this as terrible service, think they’ll thrive?”
Sihoo, observing, brought a tray of food to Cheolsu’s table. “White porridge. Your empty stomach’s making you sensitive.”
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